Kelley Armstrong is a wickedly voracious writer who often pens two series simultaneously, sometimes while writing or editing other projects as well. Still, she manages all with equal enthusiasm, detail, and creativity. I honestly don’t know how she does it. The woman must never sleep.
After Rockton’s demise, she followed the characters to a new, wild Yukon city: Haven’s Rock. Now, she’s flown across the sea and back through time to give us another new series that blends fantasy, mystery, and historical fiction.
A Rip Through Time, the first book in this series, introduces a brand new, eclectic cast of characters. Like Rockton’s Casey Duncan, Mallory Atkinson is a strong, clever thirty-year-old homicide detective. On May 20, 2019, she’s in Edinburgh, Scotland caring for her dying grandmother. When she goes out for coffee, she bumps into a man in the shop, and apologizes—she is, after all, Canadian. On her way back to the hospital, she hears a woman cry out in a shadowy alley and goes to investigate. There, she glimpses the woman and her attacker; then feels a coarse rope around her neck. Mallory passes out and when she awakens, finds herself in the body of the other victim, Catriona Mitchell, a nineteen-year-old maid who lives and works in the home of an undertaker. The date? May 20, 1869.
Timeslip is fascinating to read and write. It takes tremendous research as you’re effectively writing historical fiction mixed with sci-fi/fantasy, and in this case, crime. Armstrong has taken the time to, not only do an enormous amount of research on Victorian Scotland, but provide a “Selected & Complete Research Bibliography” on her website. Armstrong says, “It’s not just knowing whether an item was invented by that time (or out of fashion by that time.) It’s the language, the customs, the concepts, the ideas…”
Mallory Atkinson (wearing Catriona’s body) is as cerebral as Sherlock Holmes, and we process these timeslip issues along with her. She slips in and out of Victorian English and contemporary casual speech as we move from her thoughts to her encounters with the handsome Dr. Duncan Gray and his independent sister, Isla. Catriona’s miraculous personality change gains her a position as, not just Gray’s housemaid, but his forensic assistant. Yes, Gray is a little dense when it comes to women, and accepts that his maid has changed dramatically due to a bump on the head. Then the bodies start to fall, and Mallory realizes she didn’t slip through this time rip alone.
The close first-person point-of-view draws the reader into the mind of the analytical protagonist as she struggles to, not only understand her predicament, but survive and overcome it, then find a way home.
Reminiscent of Outlander, Armstrong’s newest series is Intelligent, detailed, and original; definitely a series to watch. Will Mallory return to her time? Or will she win the heart of Dr. Gray and decide to stay? Will they catch the serial killer who eludes them? Or will other criminals fall through the rip in time as well?
Creating this book list was much harder than it looks. First, I had to choose books that had a similar bent to my own book, To Charm a Killer. Then I had to craft a short review to introduce each story in the light of the overarching theme. It had been so long since I’d read Interview with the Vampire, I bought the paperback and reread it. I was surprised at the depth of character, the broodiness of Louie, and the madness of Lestat.
One of my favorite reviewers writes this of To Render a Raven:
“I think the true draw of this novel for me, and this is probably true of the whole series, now that I think about it, is the intricate psychology of the characters, who are complex, nuanced, sympathetic, and occasionally, deeply irritating— a sign of just how invested I’ve become, and how well drawn their inner lives, as well as outer adventures, really are. Highly recommended read.”
To Charm a Killer started it all. As I complete the draft of Book 5, my mind drifts back to everything that’s come before, Estrada’s complex psychological journey, his desires, his loves and losses, and how he’s changed over two years of his fictional life—something that’s impacted several years of my life and continues to inspire me.
Finally, I recommend Shepherd.com as it’s a very cool, professionally vetted site. You can search for comp lists on all kinds of topics. For example, if you’re looking for adult fiction featuring witches, try this. If you’re an author, contact them to find out how to create your own list.
I’m excited to introduce you to my friend and fellow mystery/crime writer, Debra Purdy Kong and her latest crime fiction. If I remember correctly, the “gold satin” has something to do with a thong. My my!
I met Debra a few years ago at a Crime Writers of Canada event and we went on to share the stage at readings and events. Debra’s a seasoned author who knows how to paint a scene and entice her audience into reading more. See the first scene teaser below.
Debra’s volunteer experiences, criminology diploma, and various jobs inspired her to write mysteries set in BC’s Lower Mainland. Her employment as a campus security patrol and communications officer provided the background for her Casey Holland transit security novels.
Debra has published short stories in a variety of genres as well as personal essays, and articles for publications such as Chicken Soup for the Bride’s Soul, B.C. Parent Magazine, and The Vancouver Sun. She is a facilitator for the Creative Writing Program through Port Moody Recreation and a long-time member of Crime Writers of Canada. She lives in British Columbia, Canada.
The Blurb:
Transit cop Casey Holland has never met a bus passenger like the charming artist and exotic dancer, Eduardo. The bus driver Lily has certainly befriended him. But when Eduardo’s charged with murder, Lily’s caught in the middle of his legal trouble. Afraid of losing her job and custody of her son, she begs Casey for help in proving Eduardo’s innocence.
Casey’s search for answers takes her and her best friend Kendal to a troupe of strippers known as Man Cave. While the men are busy peeling off their clothes, Casey’s peeling back layers of secrets and betrayal. Nuttier than her usual adventures, the risk is just as deadly in this seventh installment of the Casey Holland transit mysteries.
When I read the blurb for Debra’s latest Casey Holland novella, I was intrigued by the character Eduardo and the male strippers known as The Man Cave. I really think Eduardo needs to meet up with my protagonist, Estrada, and spend some time at Club Pegasus. Estrada would be happy to introduce Eduardo to beautiful women so he could leave his bus-hopping days behind. Anyway, I asked Debra to tell me about Eduardo.
Where did Eduardo come from and what was the inspiration for this book?
I wanted to create a character who’s relatively uncomplicated and positive, yet still interesting. Eduardo’s a composite of people I met while working as a campus security guard several years ago, although none of them were aspiring artists or part-time strippers, like Eduardo. Some were new immigrants who struggled with English. They were engineers, doctors, and dentists in their birth countries and doing whatever they could to pay the bills until they acquired Canadian accreditation. They were the sweetest, most respectful guys to work with. There were also a few coworkers who possessed a great deal of swagger and over-confidence in their abilities.
Those experiences reinforced a truth I’ve known for some time. There’s always much more to people than meets the eye, and not everyone’s motives are negative. Eduardo is flawed, but he’s also a happy, easygoing guy. He’s an artist, a professional escort, and a stripper. He loves his family and wouldn’t wish harm on anyone, which is why his arrest for murder baffles him.
I chose those jobs for Eduardo because it suits his character. It also creates a quirky, somewhat awkward situation for Casey and her husband Lou. In the previous books, Casey’s work as a security officer for a bus company has either evolved into or merged with serious and dangerous situations. I wanted to give her a bit of a break from that level of intensity while still investigating a crime. To be honest, I haven’t been to a real-life Chippendales-type show. A member of my writers’ group has, though, and she shared some great insights about female audiences. In my early twenties, my boyfriend at the time took me to see female strippers. As I recall, the male audience was exceptionally well-behaved compared with the women in my story. But as characters discover in A Gold Satin Murder (a novella), actions, in and out of the shows, have consequences
Are you intrigued? Do you want more?
Here are the buy and connect links. But scroll down for a little September gift from Debra and read the first scene!
After a decade of security work for Mainland Public Transport, Casey Holland had learned that troublesome passengers were usually rude, loud, and poorly dressed. But the gorgeous, broad-shouldered man in the charcoal suit, white shirt, and bright red tie strutting down the aisle was a new, intriguing challenge.
The moment the man spotted Casey, he gave her a broad, toothy smile. Cool. Her silky, low-cut tank top and dangling crystal earrings were doing their job. Undercover assignments rarely involved dressing up, but passenger complaints about a hot guy who’d been badgering women to model for his paintings required a different fashion choice. Besides, the bus was way too warm this late-July evening. The less she had to wear the better.
Casey winked at the man, then tilted her head toward the empty seat next to her. He slowed his pace and nodded to the gaping middle-aged woman he passed by. Judging from a quick survey, the man had caught the attention of most passengers. The men didn’t look as impressed as the women, though.
“Hola, señorita.” Gold-flecked brown eyes glanced at her hands as he sat down. “I am Eduardo from Ecuador.”
“Casey. From Vancouver,” she replied. “How are ya?” To reveal she was a señora who’d been happily married for just over a year might put him off, so the wedding rings stayed home.
“Excelente.” He beamed. “I am here only three months, but I am in love with Vancouver. It has many interesting people.”
“That it does.” His cedarwood and vanilla cologne sent a jolt of nostalgia through Casey. When Dad was alive, she occasionally gave him a bottle of something similarly scented for Father’s Day. She sat up straighter and zeroed in on Eduardo. Not the time for reflection.
“I apologize if my English is not so good,” Eduardo said.
“It sounds fine to me.” She smiled. “Do you live in this part of the city?”
“Si. Only one block away. I love to walk and ride the buses and talk to people.”
He’d have many opportunities to do exactly that in Vancouver’s densely populated West End. Thanks to nearby Stanley Park, the popular English Bay beach, and many eateries, the area attracted tons of tourists as well as visitors from other areas of the Lower Mainland.
“Your eyes!” Eduardo slapped his hand over his heart. “La violeta. Extraordinario! I have not seen such a shade before. I am professional artista. May I paint you? It would be great honor! You are so be-eau-tiful.”
“Thank you.” Great honor and beautiful were the exact words two of the complainants had used in their written statements. “So, how many women have you approached about painting their portraits, especially while riding this bus?”
“Qué?” Eduardo’s smile faded. “Why do you ask me this?”
“I’m with Mainland Public Transport security.” She showed him her ID card. “We’ve had harassment complaints about you. One woman threatened to involve the police if it happened again.”
His eyes widened. “This cannot be.”
“The complaints said you wouldn’t take no for an answer until they either changed seats or left the bus.”
Eduardo sat back in his seat. “I am stupefied!”
Casey didn’t buy the naïve act. “Harassment of any type on MPT buses is against company policy.”
He fidgeted, not quite meeting her gaze. “I am just a single man who loves ladies and to create art.”
Eduardo produced a business card depicting an elegantly designed maple tree with crimson and tangerine leaves. But anyone could create a card and pass himself off as an artist.
“Is difficult to find models in new city. Art schools are filled up.” He frowned. “And many ladies choose to sit next to me and ask what I do to earn money.”
She believed him. Given the lusty stares a couple of women were tossing his way, Eduardo had probably found more than a few willing models and dates.
“Is it wrong to talk about art, or to ask a be-eau-tiful lady on a date? I might break bus rules, but I am not breaking real laws, no?”
Casey sighed. “Are you and I going to have a problem?”
He raised his hands, palms facing her. “I do not want trouble, but I must pursue my art.”
“Eduardo, the rules are there for a reason. They also give me the authority to kick you off any MPT bus if you’re breaking them.” Casey paused. “If you’re going to discuss portrait painting, then be clear about what you want. If you’re turned down, then I strongly advise you to leave the passenger alone. I assume you expect to be paid for your portraits?”
Eduardo nodded. “I do this not only for money but to find true soulmate.” He lowered his head. “I am not so lucky in love. Is heartbreaking road filled with big potholes.”
“Uh-huh.” She studied him. “Do you think you’ll find love on a bus?”
“I search everywhere.”’
Eduardo’s expression and demeanor seemed sincere, but she had her doubts about this guy.
“You must have tried dating apps,” she said.
“Si.” He grimaced. “They were not good. Is better to meet ladies in person.” He gave her a whimsical look. “Everywhere.”
Meaning he intended to keep chatting up women on MPT buses. Eduardo might be better looking and more polite than other rule breakers, but his resistant attitude was all too familiar. She’d be seeing him again, no doubt, and their second encounter wouldn’t be as cordial.
“Just be careful about what you say,” she cautioned. “Misunderstandings happen easily.”
The corners of Eduardo’s full, sensuous mouth turned down. “What shall I talk about? The boring weather? Is what others do.”
“Eduardo, buddy, unless someone speaks to you first, it might be best if you didn’t talk at all.”
Welsh-Canadian crime aficionado, Cathy Ace, has been writing up a storm—in this case, a veritable dust storm—featuring her mystery-solving avatar, Cait Morgan. In Book Twelve, the criminal psychologist and her ex-RCMP husband, Bud, fly to Arizona as guests-of-honour of the Desert Gem, a posh new restaurant run by their sweet chef-friend, Serendipity Soul.
This is my favourite Cait Morgan crime romp for a few reasons.
Landscape. The landscape truly becomes a character in this novel. This story really couldn’t be set anywhere else. Before heading to the Desert Gem, Cait and Bud tour Frank Lloyd Wright’s desert oasis, Taliesin West with its “emerald grass and turquoise waters . . . rust-coloured paint . . . and saguaro cactus.” The Sonoran Desert in Arizona is a stunning location, rife with its own mythology, and like the infamous Sedona, attracts artists and eccentrics.
Imagination. Linda, leader of the Faceting for Life movement is the personification of a Navajo Goddess, the Turquoise Woman, right down to her turquoise toes. She actually dips her feet in dye weekly to keep them that way. She wears turquoise robes, and her dig is decorated in real turquoise. Linda is the cult leader until she’s discovered dead in her bed from an apparent, elaborate suicide. Zara then assumes her mother’s position and channels her dead father, Demetrius Karaplis. Ace’s foray into cult research is obvious—“let’s not drink the Kool-Aid”—but feathered by her brilliant imagination. The devotees “sway and hiss” their mantra, “Facet and Face It,” while Ace deepens our experience with an exploration of the “fourteen Critical Facets,” terms such as “buffing” (of the facets), and the billion-dollar business buffed by Zara using her father’s words.
Language. Speaking of words, Ace obviously had tons of fun naming her characters and acknowledges that several of the names pay homage to literary friends including KSue, Dru Ann, and Linda Karaplis. Chapter titles are a witty smorgasbord of oxymorons—“Serene Turbulence, Rustic Elegance, Unsettled Settling, Abnormally Normal,” and my favourite, “Uncommunicative Communicator.” We all know one of those.
The faceting language sets us squarely inside the cult. And, if that’s not enough, the text is peppered with unexpected terms and Britishisms (I’m unsure as to which are which) to remind us that both Ace and her counterpart, Cait Morgan, grew up in Wales—“chalk and cheese, mugged a salute, kerfuffle, slanging, yompy, lumpen substance.” Sleepy Bud makes “truffling” noises and Cait wears white “spudgy” shoes. Ace’s affinity with language surprises, delights and leaves us craving more.
Eco-everything. The Desert Gem is created in “pueblo revival architectural style” and illuminated by dancing flames of fire bowls around a central plaza. No electric lights are permitted after dark in this Earth-conscious community. Facetors and visitors live in small simple “digs” circling the plaza. Ace invites us into Cait and Bud’s dig with a vivid description that has me, for one, wanting to travel south. The Desert Gem is an eco-testament with a solar farm, waste-water treatment area, bio-digester, gardens, pool, amphitheatre, communications hub and refectory. Who wouldn’t want to stay awhile and buff their facets?
It’s all well and good until the bodies start piling up—all apparent suicides of major faceting players.
If you haven’t read any of Cathy Ace’s cozies, Turquoise Toes is a great place to begin. Each can be read alone, but your appreciation of Cait and Bud can be enriched by living their adventures in sequence. Cait is a strong, independent woman gifted with an eidetic (photographic) memory which allows her to decimate the villains triumphantly in her big reveal. Ace really kicks it up a notch in Turquoise Toes.
Griffiths’s latest Ruth Galloway archaeological crime mystery sends us forward in time as well as backward. She’s now Head of Archaeology at North Norfolk U and her daughter, Kate, is thirteen. DCI Nelson, Kate’s father, and the love of Ruth’s life, is still living with his wife and helping raise their three-year-old son (although his parentage is questionable if I remember correctly). But, that’s the kind of guy Nelson is. But hey, come on, don’t you think it’s time you lived your truth, Nelson?
There’s plenty here for readers who enjoy unravelling a murder mystery along with Nelson’s crack detective team, while delving into the lives of old familiars—Ruth & Nelson, Cathbad & Judy—and there’s a new archaeologist in town, David Brown, whose enthusiasm and connection with The Night Hawks make him suspect, and Ruth terribly annoyed.
The Night Hawks are a group of amateur archaeologists and metal detectorists, who wander at night searching for prize loot buried under England’s soil. They discover a Bronze Age hoard along with a three-thousand-year-old body on the beach, and nearby another body—a man recently deceased. Then they discover a bloody scene at a spooky farm house that appears to be a murder-suicide carried out by the husband, a scientist who’s not a very nice guy at all. Add to this soup, the legend of the Black Shuk, a giant black dog with red eyes that prowls the vicinity of Black Dog farm where the alleged murder-suicide occurred, and you’ve got an up-all-night-read brewing.
ellygriffiths.co.uk
One year, I’ll read this whole series from beginning to end again. I’d love to see this series come to television. Producers, please.
It’s been some time since I read an installment of the DreadfulWater Mysteries. Too long. The Red Power Murders (2017) was my first. With the latest Thomas King mystery about to launch, I decided to catch up with Obsidian, released 2020. Plus, I love the shiny black volcanic rock, so was enticed by the title. While reading Thumps DreadfulWater’s adventures, I could hear King’s voice narrating, and that got me thinking about his mocking comedy style, and where I first heard it.
Way back in 1997, King created CBC Radio’s Dead Dog Café, where he played straight man to Jasper Friendly Bear and Gracie Heavy Hand at the fictional town of Blossom, Alberta. I used to listen and laugh along with the fifteen-minute CBC episodes on the car radio while driving my daughter to taekwondo. If you’ve never heard Indigenous satire at its finest, you can catch episodes on youtube. I’d previously read Medicine River and Green Grass, Running Water while attending Trent University’s Indigenous Studies program. The latter is a 1993 Trickster novel, nominated for the Governor General’s Award. I add this preamble because the DreadfulWater Mysteries echo the same wry, ironic tone that characterizes King’s writing while offering a classic who-done-it mystery that will appeal to all those who love crime novels.
Obsidian takes Thumps back six years to a tragic time when he was a deputy sheriff and his girlfriend, Anna, and her daughter, Callie, were killed by a serial killer on the Northern California Coast. It doesn’t get much worse than that. They never caught the guy, who killed eight other people during his killing spree. Perhaps that’s why Thumps has given up law enforcement to become a photographer—something that Thomas King does exceptionally well. Check out his photos here. DreadfulWater’s ancestry is Cherokee, as is King’s. I feel an alter-ego lurking here.
Thumps returns to Chinook, only to discover that the producer of a true-crime reality TV show who’s investigating “The Obsidian Murders” had come there to talk to him but been murdered. Moreover, Maslowe’s found with a piece of obsidian in her mouth—the trademark of the original serial killer. Is he now in Chinook or is this a copycat killer? Either way, the news leaves Thumps feeling both troubled and curious.
Naturally, there’s a café in Chinook populated by funny friends. The banter between Thumps, Cooley Small Elk, and Moses Blood is reminiscent of the characters at Dead Dog Café. The story is largely plot-driven and heavy in dialogue—humorous dialogue—which is no surprise since King is also a screenwriter. I’m surprised the Thumps DreadfulWater Mysteries haven’t been purchased for screen yet. With their Canadian/Indigenous humour they’d make a splash—think Schitt’s Creek merged with Blackstone.
Maslowe has left Thumps a name—Raymond Oaks—who, it turns out, was Anna’s husband before he was sent to prison for life (robbery-homicide) and released on a technicality just around the time of the killings. Thumps is enlisted by Sheriff Duke Hockney to help investigate the murder and joined by his slick deputy-friend, Leon Ranger.
Not long after, Thumps is approached by a strange trio of film producers—Mercer, Gerson, and Shipman—who’ve come to Chinook to make a cable movie based on the Obsidian murders. “People, it seemed, liked to be disgusted, liked to be terrified, and broadcasters without borders had quickly learned to mine this deep and disturbing vein in the American psyche” (89). King is a masterful storyteller who writes ironically about his own work, and peppers his stories with political opinion, satire, sage wisdom, and the occasional belly laugh. If you’ve never read him, this is a great way in.
There are several characters embedded in this edition who I want to know more about. That means going back to the beginning with DreadfulWater, originally published in 2002. Obsidian can be read as a standalone mystery but would definitely be richer with more background and description. These characters can quickly become old friends worth knowing. Check out The DreadfulWater Mysteries for a seductive and respectfully irreverent read you can’t put down.
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